


THiL Extra 3: USUK and GerIta night

by harin91



Series: Sharehouse AU [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, First Dates, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harin91/pseuds/harin91
Summary: This is a 'The House in London' extra story, linked toChapter 6.Chapter 1: USUKChapter 2: GerIta





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: **not beta-ed, English is not my first language**.  
>  I'm [brightly-painted-canvas on Tumblr](brightly-painted-canvas.tumblr.com).

“I’m starving.” announced Alfred the same moment he and Arthur put one foot outside the boutique and onto the pavement of the street.

“Well, choose a place then.” said Arthur, tired and a bit hungry himself after a whole afternoon of unscheduled hard work.

“McDonald’s.” replied Alfred resolutedly. Arthur sighed as the American led the way toward the nearest McDonald’s in the area, without ever checking on his phone where it was.

“You can’t complain, you know? Francis said dinner is at our discretion.” commented Alfred, amused.

“Have you heard me complaining?” asked Arthur in a very annoyed tone.

“Heard, no. Felt, yes.” replied Alfred, as if sensing the distressed aurea of the other.

He slowed down a bit, to be able to take Arthur by the hand: “Be a good winner when you’ve got such a prize to show off.” he teased.

Arthur blushed: “I’m already regretting winning you over that old guy with handlebar moustache.” he retorted.

Alfred made an unconvinced sound: “You won’t regret it after I treat you to the best dinner experience of your life, sugar.”

Arthur snorted.

 

They arrived at the fast food restaurant in less than five minutes.

Arthur was very impressed by Alfred’s innate flair to always be able to locate the nearest junk food place everywhere he was and honestly expressed his praise, to which Alfred replied with a proud: “It’s a fucking superpower, I tell you.”

They queued while checking the menu (at least Arthur, since Alfred seemed to know it by heart) and placed their order (massive, for the American).

“And a blueberry muffin.” added Arthur to his order, making Alfred snicker and comment: “That’ll never stop being funny.”

“What?” retorted Arthur.

“ _ Blooberry _ .” said Alfred, trying to imitate his accent and laughing even louder.

Arthur rolled his eyes and decided to ignore him.

“You eat here or to go?” asked the cashier, amused by their quick exchange.

Arthur was about to reply when Alfred intervened: “To go, please.” with a nice smile toward the girl, who smiled back shyly.

“To go?” asked Arthur once their food was put inside three very big and heavy paper bags and they were once again walking outside, toward the streets of London immersed in the night’s darkness and streetlamps’ yellow hues.

Alfred shifted one of the bags he was carrying so he could once again take Arthur’s hand in his and winked back at the other: “I may be mistaken, but I gathered both our homes are empty tonight.” he commented.

Arthur looked back at him, surprised.

“So, mine or yours?” asked the American, making the other blush profusely once again.

“Shouldn’t you be the one to decide?” said Arthur.

“You’re absolutely right.” replied Alfred.

 

Alfred’s and Kiku’s small campus apartment was indeed empty and pitch black when they arrived.

Alfred wasted no time in placing the food on a small coffee table between a very big and fully equipped television and the couch, then straightened up and glanced around, looking for something.

“What’s wrong?” asked Arthur coming inside after making sure the door was locked.

“I’m wondering where Kiku keeps the laundry,” said suddenly the American.

“Why?” asked Arthur, suspicious.

Alfred just beamed back at him, a picture of excitement and ill-concealed mystery: “You are going to discover what kind of special services you’ll be offered by the wonderful prize you’ve conquered.” he said cryptically.

Arthur sighed again, distracting himself by looking around the apartment all the while Alfred put his big plan to work.

There were only two rooms, the living room they were inside at the moment and a shared room with both Alfred’s and Kiku’s bed, both overlooking a small corridor toward the bathroom. The kitchen was in a corner of the first room, compact but fully equipped for two.

Arthur looked amusedly at the tiny fridge, on which the two students had notes similar to the ones in Arthur’s own house: a garbage disposal and cleaning calendar, groceries notes and magnets from places in America, Japan and Canada.

“Who’s in Vancouver?” he asked out loud, finding a postcard right beside a correspondent magnet.

“My twin!” replied Alfred from the other room: “He likes to think he’s Canadian just ‘cause they have better hockey teams.” he joked.

“You’ve got a twin brother?” asked Arthur, bewildered.

“Yes, but I’m the better looking one. You’ve been lucky.” said Alfred, appearing from around the corner of the corridor to glance at Arthur’s stance in front of the fridge: “We’re opposites, anyway. He’s calm and bookish and people don’t usually recognise him.” he explained: “While me, I’m unforgettable.” he smirked.

Arthur looked back at him unimpressed: “Just from your description, I think I much prefer your brother.”

Alfred laughed: “Jokes on you, tough. You just spent one-hundred and twenty-five pounds over the wrong twin, then.” then he nodded toward the couch: “I’m done with the first surprise. Ready for dinner?” he asked.

Arthur followed him around the corner and was immediately taken aback from the transformation the room had been subjected to in less than three minutes: over the couch there were now white sheets placed like tents and canopies and adorned with tiny white led lights, casting a cozy and almost romantic glow over the otherwise semi-dark room. The couch itself was covered with soft-looking blankets and cushions and Alfred even thought about displaying the fast food they bought in plates and bowls, making dinner look less spartan.

On the television’s shelf, two scenting candles were already burning, their tiny flame reflected on the screen already showing Netflix’s home page.

“How does it look?” asked the university student, already knowing the answer just by looking at the impressed and happy expression on Arthur’s face.

“I’m starting to appreciating the purchase I’ve made.” he said, side-glancing him before reaching the couch and sitting down to test its comfort.

Alfred sat down beside him and grabbed the remote to start the show he’d selected.

 

They ate dinner, watched television and chatted until they were both full and sleepy. The cozy and soft atmosphere of the lights and white blankets above their head had them relaxing more and more and slide more and more comfortably against one another, contented and warm and almost in each other’s arms.

“Isn’t this better than fancy dates at overpriced restaurants?” asked Alfred, voice low after being silent for a long time.

“I’ll decide when you’ll actually take me to a fancy date.” mumbled Arthur, eyes already closed and cheek pressed against Alfred’s shoulder.

The American’s heart skipped a bit hearing the word ‘when’, but he decided not to act on it: “I took you to a fancy cocktail party already.”

“That was hardly fancy,” snorted Arthur, opening one eye to peer at Alfred’s amused expression: “Your lab colleagues were there too. And I couldn’t speak to them because I don’t know anything about science and all that… stuff you do.” he said, gesturing vaguely with his hand, then placing it back over Alfred’s chest, just above his beating heart.

“You made a good first impression, though. My friends all liked you.” considered Alfred, shifting slightly so he could look into Arthur’s eyes, deep green like the ocean’s waves in the dim light of the room. The led thread above them casted a long shadow underneath his long eyelashes, caressing pale cheeks almost translucent and dotted with tiny darker spots.

He looked tired and sleepy, but he was smiling nonetheless, relaxed and happy, and the sight was taking Alfred’s breath away.

“What can I say, I’m perfectly charming.” joked the Brit, his voice a deep whisper against Alfred skin as they both wondered how did they shift so close to one another.

The television chose that exact moment to turn off into standby, leaving them even more in the dark. Their eyes adjusted quickly, never shifting their gaze from each other.

Alfred’s mouth curled upward for an instant, smiling at Arthur’s words: “Yeah.” he replied, not finding any other smart thing to say back.

Arthur inched even closer, sighing contentedly as Alfred’s arm against him shifted to stabilise him and circled his waist in some sort of a loose embrace.

“Did the plan involve something else after this magnificent dinner?” asked Arthur, curling up against Alfred’s side and closing his eyes once again.

“There’s a full list of special talents your purchase has got from which you can choose,” said Alfred, trying to imitate a pronounced posh accent: “Like video gaming, heroing, talking about freedom and particle accelerators, barbecuing…”

“I think I’d like to postpone the unlocking of all of those marvelous skills.” smirked Arthur, stopping the American’s rambling: “What about a kiss right now?” he proposed, voice daring but cheeks turning slightly pink.

Alfred laughed breathless, heart beating so hard and fast he could feel it up to his fingertips pressed against Arthur’s side: “That costs extra.” he replied, after finding his voice again.

Arthur pouted: “How much?” and inched closer, his nose almost brushing against Alfred’s.

“One word.” said Alfred, amused.

Arthur scrunched his nose, perplexed: “What word?”

Alfred, moved his face to playfully bump noses with the Brit: “Blueberry.” he suggested.

“Fuck off.” was Arthur’s honest reply as he closed his eyes, too amused to feel offended.

“That’s good, too.” smiled Alfred, brushing his lips against Arthur’s one in a small and quick feather-like kiss. He punctuated: “But they’re two words.”

They kissed slowly, eyes closed and bodies still, comfortably against each other.

Arthur broke the kiss to smile back against Alfred’s mouth and say: “Then I expect to be kissed two times.” and stilled, waiting for Alfred to reach his lips again, this time deepening the kiss and pulling Arthur’s face against his with a hand on his jaw and fingers caressing under his ear.

“Why stopping at two when you can have three and four?” asked Alfred when they broke apart to regain their breath.

Arthur hummed his approval and kissed him, taking the initiative by caressing Alfred’s bottom lip and biting it softly to sparkle a reaction. Alfred gave out the tiniest moan, his tongue sliding against Arthur’s inside his mouth.

They kissed heatedly, slowly rocking and shifting to better fit against each other, limbs tangled and hands exploring.

“Do you mind if we move this to the bedroom?” asked Alfred after a while, one hand in Arthur’s hair and the other under the Brit’s shirt, caressing his lower back: “I’ve got all the… stuff in there.”

Arthur’s breath caught and he sighed, looking straight into Alfred’s eyes with a mix of anticipation, nervousness and lust: “Do you want to do it?” he asked.

“I… yes.” replied Alfred honestly, Arthur’s leg bending upward and sliding over his hip, eliciting another moan: “What about you?”

Arthur smiled in relief and nodded, as their noses bumped once again: “Lead the way.”

 

Alfred took his hand and helped him up, turning off the led and lamp lights before skipping to the other room and guide Arthur on top of his bed, easily recognisable for the black and yellow Batman cover and the superheroes posters surrounding it.

“How many kisses are you in debt for?” he asked, crawling slowly on top of Arthur who huffed out a laugh, cupping Alfred’s face with his hands to pull him closer and kiss him again, this time quickly and softly.

“I lost count.” he admitted.

Alfred shifted so he could caress his neck and nib playfully at his ear, kissing the pierced earlobe: “You’ll have a lot of English speaking to do later.” he advised.

Arthur made a cute noise, something between a laugh and a moan as he considered Alfred’s words and felt the other kissing and sucking his neck.

“That’s alright.” he replied, breathless and with closed eyes, back arching slightly toward Alfred’s body heat: “Contrary to you, I’m always speaking English.” he provoked.

Alfred stopped immediately his ministrations to look down at him, faking being very offended.

“ _ Bleahberry _ .” snickered Arthur, trying to imitate a strong American accent.

They both laughed out loud, almost to the point of tears and tension dissipated: Alfred touched his forehead against Arthur’s and sighed, happy and relieved.

“You drive me crazy.” he admitted, voice small and sincere.

Arthur breathed slowly in, with his eyes closed.

They kissed again, meaningfully, their hands joined with fingers intertwined, never wanting to let go.


	2. GerIta's first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as the previous chapter + Italian is my mother tongue, but my German is Google Translate level. Sorry for any mistake.

Ludwig and Feliciano were riding the Tube together and the Italian was looking intensely at the small ticket in his hand, the piece of paper Gilbert had given to him, which sanctioned that Ludwig was ‘his’ for one night.

The German was silent, eyes almost closed and head bumping slightly at every movement of the fast vehicle: he felt tired and sleepy for the long afternoon and evening, especially now that the nervousness caused by the whole ordeal was finally washing away.

Suddenly, he felt Feliciano jumping to his feet as the train was slowing down, approaching a station.

He glanced up at the Italian strangely determined and concentrated face and asked: “What are you doing? This is not your stop.”

“Come with me, please.” said Feliciano, turning to look at him with the same expression.

Ludwig hesitated as the doors were sliding open.

“C’mon, Ludwig!” exclaimed Feliciano, suddenly grabbing him by his jacket’s lapel and yanking him up and out of the subway’s coach: Ludwig gaped at the unexpected force and velocity of the usually soft and bubbly Italian and stood on the platform, still in disbelief, as they both watched the train restart and disappear inside the next tunnel.

“What happened?” he asked, afraid something had bothered Feliciano while inside the coach.

“I’m hungry, let’s have dinner.” said resolutely the Italian, turning around and marching away with a steady pace which resembled a lot Ludwig’s one.

“I have to study.” said the German, blushing slightly for the implication of dinner together, alone with Feliciano.

The Italian turned around and sighed loudly, looking almost angered: “It’s just dinner.”

“O-okay.” Ludwig heard himself replying, shocked by his own misbehaviour: university and deadlines disappeared from his mind the same moment a sad or angry expression was on Feliciano’s face, apparently. That mustn’t have been a good thing, he thought.

But the smile and the loud and excited “Thank you!” he received from the Italian cancelled even those last concerns about the integrity of his mind’s health, so he just dumbly smiled back (or at least tried to) and followed the other, wherever he was directed toward.

 

Turned out, Feliciano was aimlessly looking for a pizza place at least vaguely looking Italian, which to Ludwig’s surprise was extremely difficult despite them being very near Portobello road, a place known for fancy restaurants.

Every time the Italian found a sign reading ‘pizza’ outside a shop window, he looked expectantly inside just to be disappointed by yet another cafe with small seats and tables and pizzas looking too soft or too small or too full of strange toppings to be completely trusted by an authentic Italian expensive taste.

After the tenth or eleventh street corner they turned to look for yet another restaurant, Ludwig finally recognised their surroundings and decided to spare Feliciano from the difficult choice and take responsibility: “I know a place.” he said, simply.

The Italian stopped in his track, forcing Ludwig to surpass him and look back expectantly.

“Does it have pizza?” asked the other, hopefully.

“No, I don’t think so.” apologised the Tech student: “But it’s good, if you like Bavarian food.”

Feliciano confessed he never had it before in his life.

This time, it was Ludwig’s turn to drag the other around.

 

The inn was small and cosy, with simple wooden tables and chairs and a long row of stools around a single counter. The lights were yellowish and the air was warm, smelling of delicious food, like freshly-baked bread: both their stomachs rumbled in unison.

Ludwig was welcomed like an old friend from the owner of the pub and his wife, two rubicund middle-aged Germans speaking very loudly and fastly to the Tech student.

“ _ Und das ist Feliciano, _ ” said suddenly Ludwig, introducing his friend who felt suddenly very aware of all the inn bystanders’ eyes on him.

“ _ Hallo, _ ” he greeted timidly, trying out loud one of the very few German words he knew.

The pub’s owner took his extended hand in a firm grip and shook it vigorously, while exclaiming: “ _ Der Italienische Freund! _ Hello, my name is Ernst!  _ Ciao! Ciao! _ ” making both Feliciano and Ludwig blush profusely. The woman behind the counter introduced herself as Margarethe and smiled sweetly at the two students before adding: “Lutz told us about you.” with a conspiratory look.

“What?” asked Feliciano, confused.

“That’s not true!” intervened Ludwig, steering Feliciano toward the nearest stool with sudden hurry and quickly trying to change the subject: “ _ Zwei bier und das Tagesgericht, bitte Tantchen. _ ” he asked Margarethe, who smiled happily once again before disappearing into the kitchen.

Ernst took care of the drinks and in less than two minutes they had a large pint of cold and frothy beer before them.

“I hope you’ll like the food,” said Ludwig after a quick toast and a first gulp of beer: “Not everyone likes potatoes and wurst, especially if they’re accustomed to pasta and pizza.”

“I like them,” replied Feliciano, playing with a spare coaster on the table: “I just don’t eat them frequently.” and then he added, in a voice so small it almost didn’t reach Ludwig’s ears: “And tonight’s rules said you were the one who had to choose, anyway…”.

Which Ludwig unfortunately heard anyway, almost choking on his second sip of beer and sputtering in total embarrassment: “This is not a date!” so loud the whole inn turned to look at them curiously.

Feliciano looked sheepishly around and didn’t reply until they were left alone by everyone else’s stares: “Looks like it is.” he stated, placing the auction ticket he received from Gilbert on the table between them.

“ _ Oh Gott, _ ” sighed Ludwig, as red as a tomato: “You said it was just dinner…”

“It’s my first date.” said suddenly Feliciano, looking straight ahead with once again a concentrated expression: “At least with someone I care about. So for me, it is a date. A dinner date.” he explained plain and simple.

Ludwig looked away, too embarrassed to risk meeting the other’s gaze.

They waited for their food in a silence so tense and heavy that even uncle Ernst, serving their plates, looked worried.

Feliciano tried the food slowly, savouring it and smiling back at Ernst and Margarethe, both glancing at them from the kitchen’s corner, expectantly.

“ _ Molto buono, grazie. _ ”

“ _ Sehr gut, Danke schön. _ ” they said at the same time, adding to their embarrassment, but making the restaurant’s owners happy and delighted.

“ _ Buon appetito. _ ” tried shyly Margarethe, making Feliciano smile even more and thank her again.

They ate two more mouthfuls in silence before Ludwig suddenly straightened his back and suggested: “We can go to the movie theatre later.”

Feliciano turned around to look at him and saw the red cheeks and the trembling lips, an attempt to maintain seriousness and protocol.

“I would love that.” said honestly the Italian, smiling so gently that Ludwig too had to look back at him.

They tried to ignore the cheerings from the two kitchen occupants and the relieved sighs from all the other customers as the tension dissipated around them.

Feliciano put the auction ticket back in his pocket and finished his dinner, chatting lightly with Ludwig, Ernst and Margarethe.


End file.
